Thursday, May 30

Everett. Our Everett climbing in bed with us first thing in the morning to tell us about the "BURS" {birds} he hears chirping outside.
East. This place that we live, our home away from home. This green, wet, summerland that I will always be pretty fond of.
Ended. The life of my little succulents. I failed to write WATER THE PLANTS, XO on the bathroom mirror before I left.
Eighty. The exaggerated number of books we read today. Probably an abuse of our public library privileges, but they have AC in there.
Excuse. Five off the top of my head as to why Tyson shouldn't go into work tomorrow.
Eldest. As in, the one who took their driver's test in an astro van. As opposed to the youngest, who did not.
Emerald. The thin ring of color around Everett's iris, almost invisible next to all the blue. His eyes are the only place that my genetics outshine Tyson's, booyah.
Eleven. The time of night I went out yesterday for a bag of Rolo's.
Empty. Why yes it is.